Origins of Hate
by daffodil200
Summary: Voldemort must have been a child sometime. This is a story of that childhood, tracing the transition of Tom Riddle into Voldemort. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!HAPPPY HOLIDAYS!
1. Tommy

Ten year old Tommy was not a morning person. He groaned as his bunkmate shook him awake and put his head under the pillow.  
  
"Go 'way," he murmured, then sat up sharply as his covers were ripped from him and the lights turned on. Shivering, Tommy ignored the ladder and jumped down from his bed. He pulled on a sweater that was nearing the end of its days, gave his black hair a quick combing, then ran down the hall where there was already a long line for the bathroom.  
  
The people at the front of the line were pounding on the door and as a tall boy with blonde hair exited, there was a scuffle as everyone wanted to take a shower while there was still hot water. Tommy never tried too hard to be in front because he was so small that he would be quickly pushed to the back anyway. "I hate Mondays," said a miserable voice from behind him, making him jump.  
  
The speaker was Ethan, his best friend who slept below him at St. Elizabeth's Orphanage. Ethan was a year older than Tommy but he had only arrived there three years prior, when his parents were killed in a plane crash.  
  
"Terry said he'd give me a dollar if I cover for him while he's faking sick today. Stupid git gave it to me already; as if I'd actually keep up my end of the bargain after he told Ms. Jacobs that it was me who put that frog in Amelia's desk."  
  
Tommy chuckled at the memory of Amelia Redmond running screaming from the room shouting, "It's going to kill me!" as he and Ethan were rolling on the floor. Privately, Tommy suspected that Ms. Jacobs already knew who was responsible, as it was usually Ethan.  
  
Tommy had black hair and eyes that always seemed serious, even when he smiled. He was very polite to the teachers and the other kids at the orphanage, but rarely spoke to anyone other than his best friend. Ethan, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. He had curly blonde hair and blue eyes that always seemed to be laughing. Even right after the death of his parents, Ethan had been fairly cheerful and was the eternal optimist. The two friends were two of the younger kids at St. Elizabeth's, and therefore stayed out of everyone's way to avoid getting hurt.  
  
As they made their way to breakfast, James started to describe a plan that he had devised to nick food without being caught. He was talking for nearly a full minute before he realized that he was alone. Looking down the corridor, he saw Ethan talking to Linda Eberts, or rather staring at her with a dreamy expression while she spoke. So, Tommy made his way to the table alone and sat down a little ways away from the rest of the boys.  
  
Ethan came in looking shocked, placing his book bag on the bench then sitting down right on top of it, eyes wide. "Linda spoke to me! Did you see it? She spoke to me! As in a real conversation. And this time she didn't think I was someone else! And she knew my name and-"  
  
"I get the point; what did she say?"  
  
"She said that she has the room right below us and she'd appreciate if we stopped jumping off the bunks because it makes dust fall on them, but what she said doesn't matter, the point is that she said it." Ethan was still looking very pleased with himself as he ate the tasteless cereal that was served.  
  
The cafeteria quickly filled up as the girls came out of their rooms on the first floor. At the orphanage, the younger kids ate at seven o' clock while the older ones ate an hour later because there weren't enough tables. St. Elizabeth's was an extremely old building in the middle of London. It had crumbling brick and ivy snaking up the walls. The inside was in desperate need of a paint job and the books and desks were in varying states of disrepair. It was home to about seventy five kids of ages ten to eighteen. Due to overcrowding, seven children were crammed into rooms meant for four, and there were not nearly enough teachers. Despite being one of the youngest, Tommy had been at the orphanage for practically the longest time. As far as he knew, his mother had died giving birth to him and his father had been unable to raise him because he was very poor. Apparently it had broken his heart to have to leave his son with strangers, but he had done it to give Tommy a better life. That was what the headmistress had told him.  
  
However, some of the other orphans thought otherwise. They said that Tommy's father had probably just not wanted to bother with him, so he dropped him off and drove away without thinking twice. As much as he wished that this weren't true, he often wondered why his father never came to visit him, even if he couldn't raise his son. He had never received a birthday card from the man, nor did he know who he is. Tommy found it hard to feel sorry for himself when he was with dozens of other children who had lost parents that they had actually known, but once in a while he wished he knew something about his parents. What did his father do for a living? What had his mother's voice sounded like? However, pity was not something that was given out freely at the orphanage, so Tommy managed to cope.  
  
"So what do you want for your birthday?" asked Ethan. Suddenly it hit Tommy that his eleventh birthday was a week away. Apparently nobody knew when his real birthday was so the headmistress had chosen one for him; July 18th.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe a new pair of shoes? I've had to glue the soles of these back on three times," replied James, shrugging.  
  
"Should I buy them at the thrift store or just have Kevin steal them for you?" Kevin was another of their roommates and was notorious for stealing. He had been found one day living in an alley where he had been staying for a month and was taken to the orphanage. If anyone lost anything, they needed only to search under Kevin's bed to find it. However, nobody got very angry at him because Kevin always gave the best gifts.  
  
"Whatever," Tommy replied, not thrilled at the prospect of his birthday. Nobody got too excited at St. Elizabeth's because there were no games, cakes, or celebration in general to make you feel special on your birthday. And with that, he and Ethan left the building to go enjoy the time before classes started at the nearby private school's park.  
  
The night of July 17th, Tommy lay awake listening to the snores and murmurs of his roommates. He often had trouble falling asleep because night was his only time to think. During the day the near constant commotion made it impossible to concentrate on anything, so Tommy was very thankful for the time he had after lights out to himself. As usual, his thoughts drifted over to his parents. He wondered how his life would be if his mother hadn't died. He imagined that she was very beautiful and was funny and always knew what to say or do to make somebody smile. In his fantasy family he had two younger brothers and a sister who looked up to him and would play football with him in the front yard of their cozy home in the country. And his father... Tommy didn't know how he felt about this man, or whose story to believe. He liked to imagine his dad as a kind man who was constantly working so he could whisk his son away from the orphanage, but sometimes, in spite of himself, he felt anger. He was angry at this man who had left him here; angry at the man who knew where he lived but never visited; angry at the man who he had been told shared his name. Sometimes he hated Thomas Riddle. 


	2. Do you believe in magic?

The morning of his eleventh birthday, Tommy awoke to find a small pile of parcels at the foot of his bed. The presents were creatively wrapped, as his friends had had to forage for old newspapers and bags to cover them with. He grinned at his roommates and reached for the nearest package, reading the note that fluttered out of it:  
  
Tommy~ Happy Birthday! I wasn't sure what to get you so I settled for something useful! Give Ms. Hettlebaum hell with these! Ethan  
  
Enclosed was a package of stinkbombs and a Whoopee Cushion. Ethan looked thrilled at the prospect of trying them out and had his usual mischievous look in his eyes. Tommy opened the rest of his presents and received a brand new pair of shoes that looked blindingly white compared to his ratty old sneakers that were on the verge of falling apart.  
  
Everyone in the room knew that the small amount of pocket money that the children were given each week for doing chores around the orphanage were not nearly enough to cover the cost of the shoes, but Tommy chose to pretend that they were bought and paid for by his friends. He often felt uncomfortable knowing that the other boys were stealing, especially since he never did it himself, but would never turn them in to the headmistress.  
  
The five of them headed down to breakfast with unusual anticipation, as it was Friday and they received their spending money for the week. As the headmistress dropped the coins into his hand, the weight felt heavier than usual.  
  
"So what're you gonna do with the extra money?" asked Kevin, staring a little too long at the money in Tommy's hand for his comfort.  
  
"I guess I'll go over to the "Nook" and see if they have anything new," Tommy shrugged, referring to the book store that was only a short walk from the orphanage called the Book Nook.  
  
"Oh come on," complained Ethan, "if you're gonna waste your money on books, you might as well just give it to me so it won't go to waste!" Tommy laughed at the hopeful look in his friend's eyes. Whenever the children got in trouble, they were not given any money for the week as punishment; Ethan was broke.  
  
Tommy was probably the only kid in the world that enjoyed school and read extra text books during the summer for a bit of "pleasure reading." He found it exhilarating to learn new facts and somehow felt that since none of the kids at the orphanage were going to go far in life, he might as well get ahead of the pack. Somehow, being smart made him feel as though he were worth something.  
  
On Sunday morning, Tanya, the caretaker of the orphanage would come around the tables and pass out any mail that had arrived that week. Tommy had never gotten a letter but wasn't too upset because he was hardly alone in that. However, he couldn't help feeling shocked and slightly superior as a letter was dropped onto his place.  
  
Ethan was looking over his shoulder, but Tommy didn't want to open his first letter in front of anyone, so he tucked it into his pocket and gave Ethan a look that clearly said, "You're not reading it." He struck up a conversation about sports, which instantly distracted everyone. Soon a violent debate was taking place over whether or not the rugby team that had lost in the finals had been bribed. Tommy managed to slip away and he headed for his room.  
  
"Thomas, could I have a word in my office?" The rather stringent voice of the headmistress sounded from behind him.  
  
"Yes m'am," Tommy replied, nodding his head and following her to the office at the end of the hall.  
  
To his surprise, he was not taken into the main part of the room where troublemakers were sent to await punishment, but was led into a side room; the headmistresses private chambers. Looking around, he made a mental note to describe the place to Ethan, as his pal often said that she must sleep in a nest on the roof, because she looked like a vulture.  
  
Tommy's eyes widened as he found himself face to face with a old man. He had seen many old people, especially beggars on the street and strict schoolteachers, but this man was unlike any he had ever seen. His hair was mostly white, but had flecks of brown in it. His long beard reached down to his chest and his pleasant smile was surrounded by laugh lines. Strangest of all, however, were the long blue robes that he was wearing, that spanned his very tall, lanky, frame.  
  
The old man put out a weathered hand and said, "It's delightful to meet you, young Thomas. I believe I should introduce myself? My name is Professor Dumbledore and I am a professor at a very selective boarding school in Scotland."  
  
"It's a pleasure sir," replied Tommy, intrigued. The words boarding school echoed in his mind.  
  
"Now, I must explain that this school where I teach is of a rather different nature than you might expect. It is called Hogwarts," professor Dumbledore explained.  
  
Tommy couldn't help but let out a snort at the name. He had been rather hoping it was some prestigious boarding school that might give him the opportunity to become powerful when he was older, but at the name he realized that it wasn't to be.  
  
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that is. I teach the subject of Transfiguration, but there are an array of teachers that can expand on the magical ability that you have proven you posses."  
  
Tommy stared at the man incredulously, then started to laugh. Dumbledore waited patiently, eyes twinkling at Tommy's reaction.  
  
"You react in the same way that most of our muggle-born students, that is, students of non-magic descent, do when they first hear of magic. However, I can assure you that magic is very real." He pulled out a long stick, muttered some incoherent phrases, and suddenly Tommy's shoes were tied and the hole in his trouser leg mended. He stared at Dumbledore in utter shock, unable to speak.  
  
"I assure you that this is no hoax, and that we have detected that you have very strong magical ability, that will be fine-tuned once you come to our school. I will give you a week to think this over, and if you agree to come, which I hope you will, your headmistress will contact us. Now I must be going to visit other homes. With luck, I will see you on September first." And with that the strangest man Tommy had ever met disappeared into thin air and he was left sitting by himself, soaking in what he had just learned.  
  
Tommy was surprised to find that he believed the man. What he was saying was just so ridiculous that it made sense. There was no way the man could have fooled him into looking the other way while his shoes were tied, or distracted him while he had an assistant sew up his trousers. Tommy was a very reasonably boy, and was not one to stray far from logic. And there was only one logical way to explain all this. There was such a thing as magic after all. 


	3. Convincing Friends

Disclaimer: (This goes for every chapter) Harry Potter and everything related belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Tommy did not mention his meeting with Professor Dumbledore to anybody. He knew his friends well and could easily imagine their reactions of he told them that he was a wizard and would be leaving at the end of the summer to learn how to concoct potions and turn people into frogs. Because he was going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had taken him about an hour after Dumbledore had left to come to that conclusion.  
  
He had never allowed himself to think about his future. He and all the teachers at the orphanage knew that he had the brains to become very successful, but the problem was the opportunity. Being an orphan, he would never be able to afford to attend a university; the minute he turned eighteen the faculty of St. Elizabeth's would send him on his way to find a job, probably working in a factory or shop. But now... now he had a talent that he could use. He could graduate from Hogwarts and become anybody and be as powerful as he wanted.  
  
"What's the matter with you?" Ethan asked his friend who was staring out the dirty window of their room. This wasn't the first time he'd asked this question as Tommy had been doing a lot of this.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I'm serious now. Why have you been acting so odd lately? Ever since you got that letter at breakfast you've been really quiet and well- different. So spit it out." Ethan gave his friend one of his famous looks that said quite plainly, "I'm not going to drop it."  
  
Tommy looked into the eyes of his friend and saw not curiosity, but genuine concern. He instantly felt bad for lying to him, and realized that he couldn't just disappear come September without telling him to truth.  
  
"All right- I'll tell you what I've been thinking about but I promise you, it's too much to believe. That letter in the mail was an invitation to an... erm... very exclusive boarding school. They want me to come in September." Tommy was unable to look at his friend who would surely never forgive him for leaving.  
  
"What- you're leaving! For the entire year! Are you mad? You can't just go to some random school that nobody's ever heard of just because they send you a letter! You'd rather spend the year with strangers who'll probably turn out to be kidnappers or serial killers than stay here with me and Kevin and... and..." He trailed off, looking shocked and deeply hurt.  
  
Tommy was filled with guilt, but realized he was long past changing his mind. He had already informed the headmistress that he was going to attend, and she had sent an owl with a letter to the headmaster of Hogwarts. Dipple or Dippet or something like that.  
  
"The man who came was not a nutter... well, he was a bit eccentric but seemed like a good teacher. And I want to go. We can still write and I'll probably be able to come home for Christmas and Easter! Come on, cheer up."  
  
"So what's the name of this place anyway?" Ethan asked as Tommy tried to improvise a name, but ended up deciding on the whole truth.  
  
"Hogwarts," he replied simply. Ethan snorted.  
  
Tommy looked his best friend straight in the eye, and said "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry actually." Ethan started at him for a few seconds, then grinned.  
  
"Good one! While you're there would you mind buying me a magic wand? Also, get me a broomstick while you're at it." Tommy didn't laugh at the joke.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore- the man that came to speak to me- said you have to go to a place called Diagon Alley to buy that kind of thing," he said, keeping a straight face so Ethan would realize he spoke the truth. "Please Ethan, you have to believe me. Here, I'll show you the letter." He took out the thick parchment that he had kept in his pocket because anything lying around St. Elizabeth's was public domain. Privacy was not a quality the orphanage could boast.  
  
Ethan stared at the letter for a few minutes and appeared very thoughtful. When he spoke, it was seriously and slowly, as if considering everything he said.  
  
"If this is a joke, it would have taken a lot of work. I don't know why you'd come up with a joke like this. You'd have had to get Hettlebaum in on it- Jeremy said that Kelsy said that Hettlebaum had asked to speak to you in her office but that it didn't seem like you were in trouble," Ethan said, still looking thoughtful. Tommy cursed the lack of privacy in the place. It took about five minutes for a secret to spread to every single child.  
  
"The headmistress doesn't have a sense of humor. You couldn't have come up with a joke so elaborate, no offense. I'm gonna be really embarrassed when you laugh in my face for believing this story but... you're telling the truth, aren't you?"  
  
Tommy smiled at his friend and nodded, and it was at that moment that a wave of sadness swept over the pair. Their friendship would never be the same if they only saw each other during the summers. Neither knew quite what to say, so they remained silent until the situation grew too awkward to bear.  
  
"Want to go play checkers or something?" Ethan asked with a half-hearted smile on his face.  
  
"Sure," Tommy replied, glad of the distraction. "I'll use my magic powers to kick your arse!" Ethan laughed and the tension was broken. The next few weeks were enjoyable for Tommy, as he and his friends knew they were the last they would spend together for a while. He had decided to tell Kevin, Jeremy, and the others in the room about the boarding school, leaving out the minor detail that the curriculum incorporated magic instead of math. Ethan had promised not to tell anyone else, and although he caused a lot of mayhem, he was probably the most loyal person out there.  
  
Even though it was summer, they still had to take classes in the evenings, something everyone thought was terribly unfair. The kids at the private school around the corner didn't have to go to school year round- why should they? It was a popular joke among the students at St. Elizabeth's to overflow the suggestion box that sat in the office with the request of canceling classes, but it never seemed to work.  
  
Headmistress Hettlebaum was currently standing at the front of the classroom, about to start English class. She went down the list taking roll call, and each student stood up when his or her name was called. She read the name "Ethan O'Malley with a look of disdain on her face. He stood up and smiled at her.  
  
"Here!"  
  
"Here who?" She replied, looking irritated.  
  
"Here Headmistress Hettlebum!" The entire class looked down at their desks, shaking with silent laughter. The rather large woman paced in front of him, rather like a general surveying his ranks.  
  
"Ethan O'Malley. I have a little job for you. Since you seem to have so much trouble with my name, you have just earned yourself of spending the day tomorrow in my office writing 'I will respect Headmistress Hettlebaum' five hundred times. Now I would advise you to take out your book and make it so that I forget that you are in my classroom or even exist. Do I make myself clear?" Ethan nodded respectfully but his eyes sparkled.  
  
The rest of the lesson passed without incident, and when the clock chimed nine they were free to go. However, as Tommy was following the throng out the door, the headmistress called him back. She waited until she was sure everyone had left, and then closed the door behind her.  
  
"I have been informed that Hogwarts is sending somebody on Sunday after church to take you for your school supplies. Since we at the orphanage are on an.... erm... tight budget, your basic supplies are being paid for out of Hogwarts funds. Since you are attending with financial aid, you will only be allowed to purchase what is on your supply list. Anything else has to be out of your own pocket money. I simply will not tolerate it if I get a letter from this school asking us for money since you spent too much. Understand?"  
  
Tommy nodded and after agreeing to meet his escort in Ms. Hettlebaum's office directly after Sunday mass, he left the room and shut the door behind him, thinking that this week would crawl by now that he had something to look forward to.  
  
Thanks a ton to Impaired Heart, Prof.Spider, and Nocturnal007 for reviewing this story. I didn't expect to get reviews, so you three made my day! 


	4. A Taste of the Wizarding World

Tommy woke Sunday morning, the feelings of anticipation, elation, and nervousness leaving no room in his stomach for breakfast. Instead, he started rummaging through his drawer for something decent to wear when his escort arrived. He put on his Sunday best, and combed his hair thoroughly, heart pounding in his chest. Ethan claimed that he nearly had a heart attack when he woke up and saw his friend awake, dressed, and actually functioning at seven o' clock.

"Go on and save me a seat, will ya?" Tommy asked. "I just have to check something before I leave."

"Yeah, no problem," replied Ethan, fumbling with his tie, which had a large patch on it to cover up a hole.

When Tommy was sure he had the dorm to himself, he delved into his drawer and finally found a very ugly pair of orange socks. He unfolded them and dumped their contents out onto his bunk. Unlike most of the kids at the orphanage, Tommy chose not to spend his money on toys and candy. He bought the occasional book, but otherwise saved it all for when he was officially an adult and would actually need it. However, he supposed he should bring some money along on his shopping trip in case he saw something magical that was too good to pass up.

Stuffing a small amount of money into his pockets, he bolted down the stairs and ran down the block until he reached the large stone building of the church. Tommy was hardly in the mood to sit still, yet he forced himself to quietly take a seat next to Ethan.

The sermon lasted forever. Tommy had counted to a thousand, tied with Ethan in tic-tac-toe fourteen times, and changed positions just about every minute, and yet the service showed no signs of stopping. After what felt like days of fidgeting, Tommy suddenly noticed that people were scooting along the aisles and the doors were open, filling the room with bright sunlight.

Instead of staying outside with the other kids during free-time, Tommy ran into the orphanage, slowing to a walk just before the headmistress' office. She gave him a suspicious look when he appeared out of breath, but uncharacteristically refrained from chastising him. Tommy suspected she was excited as well in seeing who had been sent to accompany him.

They were not kept in suspense long; a loud CRACK made them both jump, and when the looked up, it was into the grinning face of a balding, middle-aged man sporting full length green robes.

"Good afternoon m'am," he said to Headmistress Hettlebaum, "My name is Oglot Tanager, and I am the groundskeeper at Hogwarts." He stuck out a sunburnt arm and shook the headmistress' hand.

Much to Tommy's amusement and disgust, the normally severe woman shook his hand daintily and giggled. The man turned to Tommy and smiled.

"And you must be Tommy! Well, son, we've got lots to do today, better be off!" He led Tommy to the fireplace and pulled a small jar out of his pocket.

"Now, listen carefully. I want you to take just a pinch of this here powder, throw it in the flames, and step in." Tommy's jaw dropped at the last part of the instructions; was this man trying to kill him? He was ashamed to say he had a slight fear of fire, ever since he had been five and his sleeve had caught on fire as he had reached for the water jug across the table. "I assure you, it won't hurt a bit. Now when you step in, stand very still and say 'The Leaky Cauldron,' got it?"

Tommy dumbly took the jar in his hand, and still feeling very skeptical, tossed a pinch of it into the flames. Instantly, the once orange fire became emerald green and expanded so that it was taller than Tommy. Tentatively, he brought his finger near it, and as the green flame licked his finger, he jerked it back. The fire had been cool. With a deep breath, he stuck a foot in, and in the absence of pain, climbed right into the fireplace.

"The Leaky Cauldron," he exclaimed, catching a quick view of a wide-eyed Hettlebaum through a haze of green before the office dissolved and Tommy's world became blurred streaks of color. He caught glimpses of living rooms and kitchens, and then decided closing his eyes might keep the food in his stomach from reappearing.

Suddenly, the spinning slowed, and Tommy stepped out into a dimly lit bar. He had to windmill his arms to keep from falling backwards. Once he had regained his balance, he stepped to the side and stood uneasily, waiting for his escort.

"How'd you like your first Floo, son?" asked Og, dusting himself off.

"Er..." answered Tommy, still too shaken up by the experience to speak.

"Don't worry; it's not my preferred way to travel either," said the man, wiping some soot of his bald forehead, "shall we?" He made his way to the back of the bar, leading Tommy out into a small courtyard.

From what he had seen of this place so far, it didn't seem like they would find much. The Leaky Cauldron and this courtyard were far from impressive. He was considering voicing his concerns when the groundskeeper started tapping the bricks, and a large archway opened up right in the wall.

Tommy was glad he hadn't said anything, because the winding, cobbled street that he was looking at was probably the most impressive thing he had ever seen. People were everywhere; small children were tugging their parents into shops, and vendors were selling candy and pumpkin juice to passerby. He saw a large group of kids his age chasing a rabbit down the street, and even thought he spotted an elderly woman shouting at a young girl for 'spoiling her dinner by eating a licorice wand.'

"We'll be going to get your wand first," said Oglot, "Bet you've never seen anything like this, have you son?" Tommy shook his head mutely, still gazing about, awestruck.

"I'm telling you, you're going to love Hogwarts!" Oglot, insisting that Tommy call him Og like everybody else, proceeded to describe the castle to him as they made their way down Diagon Alley. He told him about each of the four houses, and spent a particularly long time describing the 'superb food' while rubbing his round belly.

Tommy was so engrossed in Og's stories that he walked straight into something, receiving a nasty shock when he realized it was goblin, which glared daggers at him until Og dragged him away. They entered an inconspicuous shop which was filled floor to ceiling with what looked like shoe boxes. A boy about his age was at the register with his mother, clutching one of the boxes as though it was a treasure.

When they left, Og led him up the counter, and he looked up into the gray eyes of Mr. Ollivander. The wand maker seemed to know Og, because he was able to describe precisely what type of wand he possessed.

A tape measure (of its own accord) started measuring Tommy, while Mr. Ollivander pulled out boxes. Tommy waved around quite a few wands without result before he found a match. His hand tingled before he even made contact with the wood, and the stick felt warm in his hand. He twirled it around a bit, and green sparks shot out of the end.

"Perfect!" said Mr. Ollivander, snatching the wand from his hand and beginning to wrap it up, "holly and phoenix feather, twelve inches, very rigid."

Og handed the wand maker some silver coins, who took them without taking his eyes of Tommy. "I sense power in you. You have the potential to do great things." Tommy felt his skin prickle, and could feel Ollivander's eyes on him even as he left the shop.

The rest of the day passed quickly and enjoyably. They stopped at the robe store where Tommy was fitted for his Hogwarts uniform, the second-hand book store, and a fascinating store filled with potions ingredients and supplies. When they stopped for lunch at a small café, Diagon Alley was teeming with students reuniting after the summer and they were having trouble getting through the crowds.

Finally, Og called it a day, and parted with Tommy at the Leaky Cauldron, leaving him with a ticket for the train to Hogwarts and rather unusual directions to get onto the platform. Tommy never would have thought he could get on a train by 'walking straight through the barrier between platforms nine and ten.' He was slightly regretful that he had eaten an entire ham sandwich when he stepped into the fire, but there was nothing to do about it as the wizarding world disappeared as he began to spin. That had been the best day of his life, and Tommy felt even better, if it was possible, in knowing that he would soon return to the wizarding world-his world- for the entire year.


	5. Goodbyes and Hellos

The rest of Tommy's stay at the orphanage flew by. He finally understood what it must feel like to the orphans who were soon to be adopted; knowing that finally you were going to experience something else out there. Naturally, however, in his last week he suddenly gained a fondness for everything about St. Elizabeth's, and he often found himself staring wistfully at cracks in the wood or the initials carved into the beds.

And then there was Ethan. Tommy was particularly good at sensing people's moods, and Ethan was particularly bad at being subtle. Any mention of Tommy's departure brought a scowl to his face, which was replaced far too late with a pained smile. When he allowed himself to think about it, Tommy realized that his best friend would have trouble adjusting to living in the orphanage without him. Ethan was an incredible friend, and could often be downright hilarious, but the truth was he needed someone like Tommy to balance him out and talk him out of his ridiculous ideas that were bound to end in a detention.

This pre-departure homesickness was almost enough to make Tommy change his mind about going. Almost. 'But,' he thought as he lay awake in his bed one night, 'I have to remember who I am. I'm a wizard. This is my chance to become somebody; this is my only chance to follow my ambitions. If I don't do this, I'll probably end up on the streets, like half the people that leave St. Elizabeth's.' He felt relieved, and some of the guilt lifted from his chest. His last waking thought before he surrendered to his dreams was 'And I can't forget how much I hate this place.'

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It was the morning that Tommy was due to leave for Hogwarts. The other children had been told yesterday that he was going to an exclusive boarding school, a story they swallowed because Tommy was so smart. His train left at 10:07, so that he would get to King's Cross before eleven. He hadn't seen his best friend all morning, and it wouldn't have surprised him if Ethan had gone off pouting and refused to say goodbye. So, he latched his trunk and went out the back door to find him.

Predictably, Ethan was sitting by the Oak tree, a place where they sat and did schoolwork often. This confirmed Tommy's belief that he wanted to be found, but didn't want to look like he was giving in and supporting Tommy's decision.

"Hey," said Tommy, sitting down next to him, "I know you're angry with me, but I can't leave without saying goodbye." Ethan grunted. He was the most stubborn person Tommy knew.

Once, a teacher had held him after class for having cut a girl's pigtails off. The girl had been picking on Tommy for being small, and Ethan was always the type to defend people's honor. The teacher had told him repeatedly to apologize, but Ethan refused each time, and the punishments piled up. That was just the way he was.

"Tommy, will you promise me something?" Tommy looked up from his reverie and nodded. Ethan took a deep breath and continued: "It's no secret that you're going to succeed. You're smart, and have magical powers, and- wait, let me finish. I'm fit to do what? I'm no good at school, and I'm not like those rich kids who don't need to have anything in their heads to get a good job. Life's just not fair, and I'm always going to have a disadvantage. Just promise me, that no matter how different we become, you'll always stay in touch."

Tommy opened his mouth to argue, but he knew enough about the way things worked, that this very well might be true. He sniffed, trying vainly to pretend he wasn't on the verge of tears.

"I promise," he said. "I'm really going to miss you. But I'll write as often as possible, and I'll tell you about everything so that you think you're there. And I'm going to come back for Christmas, all right?" He glanced at his watch and realized that he should head to the train station with the headmistress if he wanted to catch his train. "I gotta go," he finished apologetically.

Trying not to cry, he hugged his friend, who made a valiant attempt to smile, although it ended up a grimace. He went back into the orphanage, reminding himself of how much he hated the place, grabbed his bags, and walked resolutely out the door. Headmistress Hettlebaum was waiting for him, and it wasn't until Tommy had struggled for two blocks with his trunk that she grudgingly took one end. It was a gloomy day out, but Tommy preferred clouds to sunshine because he had sensitive skin.

When they arrived at the train station, a conductor came and loaded his trunk onto the train. He imagined the trunk popping open, and the look on the man's face as jars of potions ingredients, foreign coins, and other magical items were scattered across the platform. Thankfully, this didn't happen, and Tommy made it onto the train a few minutes early. The Headmistress handed him a paper sack with a sandwich and mushy apple, before saying goodbye and warning him of how much trouble he'd be in if "that school writes to tell us you're causing problems." She left, muttering about how bad Ethan would be without Tommy to keep him in line.

The train was fairly empty, although there were a few people scattered about the car with briefcases, going to work. The ordinariness of it all struck Tommy; none of these people had any idea that later today, Tommy would be learning magic. Finally, the train screeched to a halt at King's Cross, and he saw as he got off that he was at platform 18.

He grabbed a cart and heaved his trunk onto it. When he finally arrived at platform's 9 and 10, his face was red and his sweaty hair was in his eyes. Suddenly, it struck him how ridiculous this all was. He was about to run through the solid barrier between the platforms. Wouldn't somebody see? Then, he remembered something Og had said, about how Muggles were "frighteningly unobservant" and wouldn't recognize magic if it bit them in the nose.

His watch read five minutes to eleven, so he had best do it now. He waited for a break in the flow of people, and then casually pushed his cart towards the barrier. He sped up until he was running, and his instincts were screaming for him to stop, but he was out of control. 'This is going to hurt.' He thought, and tensed up for the crash, but just as Og had said, he went through the barrier as if it wasn't there. He gasped, as he saw the scene playing out before him.

A large scarlet steam-engine was stopped on the tracks, and people were everywhere. He headed slowly to the train, picking up snippets of conversations as he passed. A tall boy was rolling his eyes as his parents gave him last minute instructions.

"Remind your brother to think smart thoughts before the sorting, so he gets in Ravenclaw. And if he tells us you've been picking on him, you'll have another thing coming."

Nearby, a boy with curly blonde hair was looking at his feet as his mother talked to him.

"Now sweetie," she said, "it's ok if you're nervous!" He sniffled.

"I'm not nervous mom. I-I'm fine. Stop p-p ester-"he burst into tears and hugged his mother.

Once he managed to get his trunk onto the train, his next challenge was to find a place to sit. He weaved through the aisles, since the first few cars were packed, and made his way to the back of the train, where the younger-looking children were sitting. He heard frogs croaking and the constant shrieking of birds, and even a few sounds that he had never heard muggle animals make. Finally, he found a relatively empty compartment and collapsed into a seat.

The other two occupants looked to be about eleven. One had bright red hair, more freckles than Tommy had ever seen, and had a look of awe on his face as his friend showed him his brand-new chess set. The other boy was short, around his height, and looked friendly enough. They noticed him watching, and beckoned him over.

"Hello," said the red-head, "are you a first year too?" Tommy nodded, relieved that he hadn't ended up sitting with seventh-years. "I'm Chester Weasley, and this is Myron Malcow."

"Er-hi," said Tommy, suddenly nervous. "I'm Tommy Riddle. Do you two know a lot about Hogwarts?" The grin on Chester Weasley's face doubled.

"Oh, I know everything about it! I have three older brothers; one's already graduated, one's in sixth year, and the other's in third year. I also have a younger brother, but he's not old enough to go." Myron Malcow smiled.

"My dad's a wizard, but my mom's a muggle. We leave down the road from the Weasleys, though, so I've been around magic a lot. I'm an only child. What about you."

Tommy had always been slightly embarrassed about telling people he was an orphan. He hated the looks of pity, or often disdain, on people's faces. He knew it was wrong, but the lie came out before he could stop himself.

"I'm an only child too. Both my parents are muggles." His two companions looked at each other, and preceded to tell him everything they knew about Hogwarts. He learned that the History of Magic professor suffered from short-term memory loss, so that if you left right away while he was yelling at you, he would completely forget about the incident. He learned that behind the painting of the Henry the Hopeless in one of the common rooms, there was a crack in the wall that let you see into the fourth year girls dormitory. He hadn't even noticed that the train had left, until he looked out the window to see gentle hills and fields whizzing by.

At one point, the two boys left to go visit Chester's brothers, and Tommy took the opportunity to begin a letter to Ethan:

_Dear Ethan,_

_I've only been on the train for a couple hours, but I have nothing to do so I guess I'll just write you now. How's Linda? If you haven't had a real conversation with her by the time I come home for Christmas, you'd better watch out. I met a couple of kids my age on the train, and one of them reminds me a lot of you! He taught me all kinds of ways to sneak around the school and play pranks on teachers, which I know would be the first thing you would learn. Anyway, I'll send this letter (by OWL!) when I have a little more to say._

He left the letter unfinished in his trunk, before he lay back and stared out the window. Despite the wave of excitement that washed over him everytime he realized where he was going, he managed to fall asleep.

A/N: If you're reading this, please review!!!! I wrote this last chapter months after I wrote the others, so if there're continuity problems, I apologize! Toodleoo, have a nice day! (Also, thanks to the people that reviewed the first four chapters! You made me happy!)


	6. Welcome to Slytherin

Tommy must have fallen asleep, because he jerked awake when the compartment door slid open. Chester Weasley had returned, this time with two boys that had to be his brothers. They each had flaming red hair and freckles, although one was about a foot taller than the other. The three of them had already changed into their crisp black uniforms, and what Tommy presumed to be the oldest one sported a shiny gold badge that read "head boy."

"Hey there Tommy," said the taller one. "I'm Frederic, this is Charles, and I know you already met my prat of a brother, Chester. Real pest that one." Tommy shook his hand, and asked about his badge.

"Oh, this means I'm Head Boy. It was a big surprise actually; I don't get great grades and I've spent half my time at Hogwarts in detention, but I guess they figure since our brother, who was Head Boy last year, was so smart, I'll suddenly turn out to be a model student. Little do they know…" Tommy laughed, but couldn't help but picture himself wearing the badge in six years, and graduating Hogwarts with honors. He vowed to himself he would study hard every year so it would happen.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the corridors of the train, shouting "five minutes 'till Hogwarts, hurry it along!"

Tommy quickly changed into his school uniform, unused to wearing robes that, in his opinion, looked like a dress. But as a swarm of students began flooding the platform, brand new robes billowing dramatically in the wind, he felt overwhelming pride from being part of something like this. Something magical.

"All first years, come with me," said a familiar voice. Tommy whirled around and saw Og, waving his hand jovially in the air and beaming with excitement. He led the first years up a pathway, which ended at a lake. As he was about to ask aloud how they were getting to the castle, Og whistled and canoes began slowly drifting towards the bank.

"Well, get in kids. Don't tip over; the water's freezing this time of year."

Tommy got into a boat with Chester and Myron, and the canoe drifted after the others of its own accord. It was a beautiful night; the stars were out, and the brisk fall air felt good after spending hours on a stuffy train. He let his hands drag along in the water and looked up at the moon.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Og, who had pulled up behind him. There's definitely something living in that lake, and although I've never actually seen it, it did bite a boy's finger off a few years back." Tommy yanked his hands out of the water, and Og chuckled.

"Look ahead, you don't want to miss this."

Sure enough, Tommy turned just as they cleared a clump of trees, and could not suppress a gasp. The castle was enormous, with dozens of turrets and towers, and more windows that Tommy could count, all bright and welcoming. All down the line of boats, eyes grew wide when they approached Hogwarts and truly got a sense of its enormity.

Og helped the first years out of the boats, and led them into a great stone entrance hall, where they were packed so tightly that nobody could move a muscle. Suddenly, with a surge of panic, Tommy realized that he didn't know what was going on. What if everybody knew what to do? Had he missed something? But, looking at the people next to him, it was clear that everybody was nervous. A small girl with pigtails was biting her nails, and they were so crammed that he could feel the boy next to him trembling with fear.

Then finally, when Tommy was seriously worried about hyperventilating, a man stood up to address them all, looking as though he could easily have been a student.

"Hello, first years." He said in a rather high voice, "welcome to Hogwarts! I'm sure you all want to get right to the Sorting, so when I open the doors, line up single file in the Great Hall. I hope everybody is happy with their house. I'm Professor Tyrot, by the way. If you need anything, feel free to come to me!"

Tommy felt undeserved dislike towards the man immediately, unsure of exactly why the professor annoyed him, but he did have an uncanny ability to correctly judge people quickly. He followed the crowd into the Great Hall and lined up near the back of the line.

A stool with a frayed hat on it was carried to the front of the room. And what Tommy had taken for a hole, opened wide like a mouth and began to sing:

The four houses of Hogwarts

As depicted on the crest,

Are different for the qualities

That divide them from the rest.

Are you one of intellect?

Studious and Wise?

Then we have quite the place for you,

It's Ravenclaw I advise!

Are you one of honesty?

Truehearted and nice?

Then off you go to Hufflepuff

If you'll take my advice.

Are you one of Courage?

Noble and Strong?

Then I implore, be a Gryffindor

For that's where you belong!

Are you one with many goals?

Ambitious and assertive?

Then you're an easy choice to make

Slytherin's where you should live.

Now take deep breaths,

I will not bite,

While I make my division.

Just slip me on and clear your mind

And I'll make the right decision.

The students already sitting at the four long tables cheered enthusiastically, while most of the first years looked as though they might be sick. Tommy could hear his heart pounding against his chest and continuously rubbed his sweaty hands against the sides of his robes.

"Anderson, Agatha!" The young wizard who had led them inside shouted, and a tall, skinny girl stumbled up to the stool. After a moment of silence, the hat shouted, "Ravenclaw!" The occupants of one of the tables stood up and cheered, as the girl ran happily over.

Gladsong, Virginia was next, and she sat with the hat over her eyes for nearly five minutes before the brim opened wide and proclaimed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The sorting went on for nearly twenty minutes before they finally reached the Rs. Tommy was sure he was next after "Rice, Nicholas" but it turnedhe was a triplet, and Tommy had to wait for "Rice, Theodore" and "Rice,Sydney" before it was his turn.When his name rang out across the hall, he walked shakily up to the stool and slipped the ratty hat over his head.

"Oh my," it said in his ear, startling him badly, "This is going to be a mighty tough choice. There's plenty in your head, I see. You'd do well in Ravenclaw with those brains, but there's more. I sense desperation on your part, to prove yourself. You're one of the most ambitious students I've encountered. I think the best fit for you would be "SLYTHERIN!" Tommy heard applauseas he pulled the hat off his head, andcould have sworn he heard it whisper, "Too good a fit perhaps." He looked around, but it was resting quietly in the professor's hands.

He made his way over to the Slytherin table, and quietly sat down next to an older boy with chiseled features and black eyes.

"Hello," the boy said, "Congratulations on making it to the best house! I'm Wyatt Garrison, in my third year!" They got into a lengthy conversation about classes and the different houses, and Tommy learned about the famous rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor. He wondered, growing nervous again, whether the boys he had met on the train would talk to him even though he was a Slytherin.

Chester Weasley was the last of the first years, and he was up at the stool before his name was called. The professor held the hat over his head, and it shouted "Gryffindor" before it even made contact with his orange hair. As Chester sauntered over to the Gryffindor table and high-fived his brothers, Tommy felt a pang of loss. Looking down the table made him feel even emptier, because everybody seemed to have friends already, and his only friend was miles and miles away.

However, the Hogwarts cooks seemed to make a valiant effort to fill this emptiness with food, because suddenly, golden platters with ungodly portions of every food imaginable appeared all along the table.

Years of eating orphanage food had trained Tommy to savor anything remotely tasty, but tonight he gave himself heaping portions of everything and began wolfing it down. Wyatt stared at him, not expecting such a small person to be able to devour five chicken legs in one sitting. Finally, Tommy leaned back in his chair contentedly and let his fork drop onto his plate.

He was growing sleepy, so he busied himself with listening to the conversations at the Slytherin table.

"My father supports Grindlewald's views, of course, but he's afraid to take an active role in helping him, because he works for the Ministry. They're really starting to crack down on his supporters. I think this whole thing could get nasty."

"Well obviously! Grindlewald's main objective is to overthrow the Ministry! He's made sixteen assassination attempts on Hiram Grasso! I think it should be pretty clear to those imbeciles at the Ministry; no, I'm not talking about your dad Maria, that he's a pretty big threat now that people are starting to come to their senses and join him."

Tommy was curious about this Grindlewald, and was anxious to learn about the politics of the wizarding world, but figured he could do research on it once he got settled in at Hogwarts.

When Tommy had reached the point of exhaustion where his head kept dropping to his chest, then jerking back up and it was painful to hold his eyes open, the headmaster, Professor Dippet, stood up and cleared his throat.

"I hope everybody enjoyed the feast, and I trust the older students are being welcoming to the first-years? A boy at the Gryffindor table snorted, having had his fork enchanted by an older student so that it would fling food at him when he tried to bring it near his mouth.

The headmaster continued to explain the rules of Hogwarts, and Tommy fell fast asleep. He awoke upon hearing applause and the scraping of hundreds of chairs. In a complete daze, he followed his housemates out of a door on the left of the Great Hall, down several corridors, and finally down six flights of stairs until the reached the dungeons.

Tommy followed for what felt like hours until they finally came to a halt.

"The password's 'Anaconda'," a prefect informed them, and stepped aside to let them all enter the common room. It wasn't by any means cozy, but it comfortable enough, and very sophisticated with neat leather armchairs and green and silver banners.

Because it was nearly midnight, the prefects briefly introduced themselves and explained how their schedule's worked.

"And the reason why they feed you so much the first night is that not a single first year can find their way to breakfast the next day, or the next couple of weeks come to think of it."

They ended by making everyone in the house swear to help them beat Gryffindor for the House Cup and Quidditch Cup, although Tommy had no idea what Quidditch was.

He followed the other first-year boys into their dormitory, changed quickly into the pajamas that were folded neatly in his drawer, and then pulled the silver curtains around his bed. He took a moment to relish in the lump-free mattress before becoming dead to the world.

A/N: If you've gotten this far, thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! A review would be extremely appreciated! (Actually, I'm begging you on hands and knees to review!!!!!) Toodles!!!! Also, I apologize for anything that is incorrect about the Slytherin common room, etc. (I'll just maintain that Hogwarts had to replace furniture and change some things over 50 years) Have a great day and happy holidays!!!


	7. Prejudice

It turned out that the prefects hadn't been joking when they said it was impossible to get back to the Great Hall. Tommy had woken up before any of his dorm mates, and had figured he would be able to retrace his steps from the night before. However, three dead ends and near-death experience on a trick staircase later, Tommy finally admitted defeat.

He looked around for somebody to ask for directions, but he was in a wing of the school that was completely empty of portraits. Just as he let out a cry of frustration, something hit him in the back of the head and he whirled around. Nobody was there, but a roll of toilet paper lay at his feet. With a deep breath, he crept forward.

"Who's there?" he asked, voice shaky. Another roll of toilet paper hit him in the face. This time, the culprit could not contain his laughter which in Tommy's opinion was more like an evil cackle.

A figure glided around the corner. It looked nothing like a ghost, but was floating in the air.

"Oh no! The poor firstie is lost!" he cackled, "I really should help. Does the ickle firstie want to get to breakfast?"

"Er-yeah, I would." Tommy didn't trust this strange little man; he had an impish look and Tommy got the impression he was being mocked. But he had no better option. So, he followed the ghost-like creature, who was banging a stick against the suits of armor, down the corridor.

"Now then. Make a right up here then go straight for a while, then take the down staircase and go through the first door on the left. Never you worry! Peeves wouldn't lead you wrong." And with that the poltergeist turned away and began doing cartwheels in the air, singing all the way.

With a small shrug, Tommy followed Peeves' directions. As he got on the staircase, he prepared himself for the worst. However, it did not move, trap him, or completely vanish like some of the others had, so he assumed that the advise had been good. Seeing a door at the bottom, he congratulated himself on having finally made it. But when he walked in, the first thing he heard was a high-pitched shriek.

He had walked straight into the girls' bathroom. Covering his eyes, he ran out of the room as if he had been electrocuted. Tommy cursed Peeves, and turned the nearest portrait on the wall that looked trustworthy.

"Pardon me, sir" he said to the man in the picture who was sitting with crossed legs and staring intently at a shoe on the grass in front of him. The man nodded fractionally, without blinking or making eye contact.

"I'm looking for the Great Hall…Could you point me in the right direction?" The man continued his meditation for a moment, before finally breaking his concentration.

"I've spent the last half hour trying to move this shoe with my mind, and you just broke my concentration! Another morning, gone to waste! Well, I guess I can help you." The man proceeded to give Tommy directions. When walking away, Tommy swore he heard the man in the portrait mutter "Bloody Shoe!"

Needless to say, by the time he got to the Great Hall, he was ravenously hungry. It seemed that all of the other Slytherin first years had decided to have a lie in, so Tommy sat down at the end of the table, near enough so that he would not look like an outcast, but far enough away so that they didn't think he was eavesdropping.

When the prefects started handing out schedules to everyone, Tommy felt the same panic he'd felt before the sorting hit him. Back at the orphanage, it had always been a given that he would pass his classes. His teachers all told him that he was naturally bright, and Ethan used to call him a genius, but magic was entirely new to him.

He unfolded the parchment which read 'Thomas Marvalo Riddle Jr.' and propped it up against the milk jug.

A fourth year on the other side of the table slid over to look over his shoulder.

"Ooh!" he said, making a face, "You have History of Magic first. Good luck with that. Professor Binns is a grumpy old man. He can't remember your name, but he can remember every single one of the 652 laws that made up the United Wizarding Pact. Expects you to be able to do it too."

History didn't sound too bad, in Tommy's opinion. He had always liked studying Muggle History, and he had a fantastic memory.

His next class was Transfiguration, with Professor Dumbledore, followed by Charms with Professor Tyrot. From noon to one he had lunch, then was off to Double Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Double Potions. It seemed like a busy day, but that was probably better than lying around the Common Room.

By the time the bell rang, Tommy had gotten detailed directions to his Professor Binns' classroom. He grabbed a front row seat and took out his notebook and quill. The teacher walked in and began to introduce the class, and Tommy marveled at the way everything about this man down to the way he walked was boring.

"I do not support the "hands-on" method of teaching that some of my colleagues use in their classrooms. The best way to learn is by listening, and I expect you all to take good notes. We have a lot to learn, so I'm not going to waste your time by playing get to know you games or treating you like six year olds. Today we will begin discussing the United Wizarding Pact of 1899."

And without further ado, he began listing all 652 laws, just like the fourth year had said. Tommy managed to write down numbers one to sixteen before the sheer monotony of the lesson overcame him, and his head dropped onto the desk, smearing his notes beyond recognition…

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By the time Tommy and the other eight Slytherin first years sat down at the table, their minds felt like the mashed potatoes they were eating for lunch.

"I spent a bloody hour in the Transfiguration classroom, and all I have to show for it is a button with polka dots," said Hiram O'Malley, one of his dormates.

They had been trying to turn buttons into ladybugs. For nearly all the class, this had been their first attempt at magic, although very little magic was actually done. The lucky students were the ones who simply waved their wands and had nothing happen. At least they weren't stuck talking in limericks or trying to hide purple faces behind their hands.

To his immense relief, Tommy had been one of the most successful students. He ended up with a plump ladybug on his desk in five minutes, and completed the transformation three more times before he accidentally sat on it.

At their end of the table, the first years were all discussing their teachers, and the general consensus was that Dumbledore was the favorite. Indeed, he was by no means intimidating. He had started class by telling them one of his greatest fears as he got older was becoming boring; if he started rattling on about something, the class was to shut him up immediately.

"And," he said, "There is no such thing as a stupid question. Unless you, like I did just last week, ask somebody when their baby is due only to find out that it is a man." The class tittered, still uptight about their first practical lesson.

Like the rest of the class, Tommy found Dumbledore interesting and easygoing, but couldn't help feeling a tinge of disappointment. Being the first in the class to do magic, he had expected some sort of recognition or reward. However, he simply received a "keep up the good work" from Dumbledore who continued on down the row, correcting people's wand positions.

Tommy tried to shake thoughts like this out of his head; he was just a nobody from an orphanage. Who would pay special attention to him? It would more than some simple wand waving to make him great. But he would be great someday, no matter what it took.

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Unlike the night before, where Tommy and the three other boys in his dorm had simply collapsed on their beds without uttering a word to each other, they got to talking about themselves.

"Well," said Hiram, "me family's pureblood. I'm the sixth generation to go to Hogwarts, and we've all been in Slytherin. I reckon me dad would've cast me out if the hat'd made put me in Gryffindor." Tommy stiffened at that statement, now even more embarrassed to tell the other boys about his own past.

A small boy with mousy brown hair and a face that was always sneering looked around at them all threateningly. "Everybody calls me Wolf," he said. Hiram snorted and asked what his real name was.

"That's none of your business," Wolf snapped, then stomped off into the bathroom. It took several weeks before the boys could say his name with a straight face.

The next boy explained to the others about how his parents were wizards who traveled the world for work, so he lived with his muggle grandparents for the majority of the year. He told them his name was Gregory Hart, and that he was desperate to play the position of Seeker on the Quidditch team next year.

Now that everyone else had been introduced, Hiram and Gregory looked at Tommy expectantly.

"Er- my name's Tom," he said, having just decided to use a more grown up name after Wolf had been laughed at. "I live in an orphanage because my parents were killed fighting dark wizards." The lie had come out easily, so he decided to elaborate.

"They were both magical, as was everybody else in my family. He played professional Quidditch before he quit to be an Auror." Tommy prayed he was using the words that he had learned throughout the day in the right context.

"Lucky!" said Gregory, who's ears had perked up at the mention of his favorite sport and had obviously missed the part about Tommy's parents dying.

Since the first day of classes had worn them out, they changed into their pajamas and turned out the lights.

"Goodnight Tommy! Goodnight Gregory! G'night Chihuahua!" Wolf growled, and within five minutes the room was filled with their snores.

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Three days later, Tommy felt he had settled into a routine. The homework load increased significantly, but at least it gave him something to do, and he secretly found everything he was learning fascinating. Particularly thrilling was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The teacher looked like she came straight out of 'The Wizard of Oz.' Tommy had heard several people refer to her as a hag, and had thought it was just because she was ugly until she introduced herself as one. Apparently, Tommy thought, Wizards couldn't keep everything from the Muggles.

Despite her alarming appearance, Professor Jetsam was extremely pleasant. She awarded more house points than any other teacher, and assigned the least amount of homework. Still, the students always left the class feeling like they had made real progress, which made up for the complete uselessness of History of Magic.

It wasn't until the end of his first week at Hogwarts that Tommy received his first owl post. A small owl swooped down and dropped a parcel on his plate before darting up to the owlery. Undoing the seal, Tommy eagerly tore open the letter.

Dear Tommy,

Thanks for the letter! I have to admit, I was so mad at you for leaving that I threw it in the rubbish bin. But then I wanted to know what it said, so I opened it like two minutes later. I still can't believe you're a witch! (Oops, I know! Wizard) You have to send me a picture of you in those dress things you wear, so I can make fun of you. Not much to report here. Everyone wants to know where you are; Hettlebum told the others that you went to a private school for geniuses, so naturally everybody believed it! I've been trying to make as much trouble as possible since I don't have anything else to do now that you're gone. Let's just say that we're not the only ones that know about Mr. Triston's wig now; the cat _mysteriously_ wandered into the morning services wearing it on its head. Anyway, I want to know more details about this school of yours. Write back soon!

Ethan

P.S. Remember that girl that had a crush on you? Allison? Well, she cried for days when you left and now sleeps with a photograph of you underneath her pillow. Creepy, huh?

Tommy felt a sharp pang of sadness reading the letter. He had expected to miss his best friend, but a small part of him missed the orphanage too. It wasn't the majority of the kids, or the chaos, or the food. And especially not the feeling of being an outcast of the world, tucked away in a crowded building with the other kids who nobody wanted.

The only reason Tommy missed St. Mary's was the familiarity; for as long as he remembered he had been there. As much as he hated it, and anxiously awaited the day he would leave, it was his home. With a sigh, he folded the letter up and put it in his pocket so he could write a reply later.

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As the next couple of weeks passed, Tommy occasionally saw one of the Weasleys in the halls, and he had Herbology with Chester. At first, Tommy had considered sitting down next to the redhead at the beginning of class, but he had noticed that the houses didn't usually mix. Especially Slytherin and Gryffindor. Therefore, they had said awkward 'hellos' to each other, and left it at that.

However, Tommy found himself in a difficult situation when he was wandering the halls one evening. As he rounded a corner, he noticed a skirmish breaking out between a small boy with red and gold and two Slytherin sixth years. The two boys from his own house towered over their opponent, probably each weighing twice as much.

Tommy generally avoided fighting, since he wasn't very strong and they usually led to trouble. Since the kid was calling for help, he decided he'd run to the nearest teacher or prefect, and get them to stop the fight. However, just as he started running in the opposite direction, Frederic and Charles Weasley came into view. They immediately jumped into the fray, and thanks to a Stunner from Frederic, managed to overpower the Slytherins.

As they helped the small Gryffindor up, Tommy realized who it was. Chester Weasley stood there nursing a black eye and a bloody nose. He was just going to ask if he was alright when the boy spoke, voice muffled as he tilted his head back to stop the steady flow of blood streaming from his nose.

"Thanks a lot!" he murmured. Tommy was just about to respond that he hadn't gotten help in time, and no thanks were necessary when Chester continued. "Don't think I didn't see you, trying to run away. You didn't seem like the type to just let somebody get picked on, but I guess you can't expect much from a Slytherin."

In shock, Tommy opened his mouth to explain, but Charles cut him off.

"We're leaving now. Thirty points from Slytherin, and don't expect any help from us, if you're ever in trouble."

The three redheads marched off in the direction of the hospital wing, leaving Tommy standing in the now deserted hallway with his mouth hanging open. What had just happened? He couldn't believe they just assumed that he had chosen to ignore the fact that a helpless first year was getting pummeled.

Perhaps he was getting his first taste of those infamous house-rivalries. Despite feeling bad about the whole incident, Tommy now had no desire to reconcile with the Weasleys. After all, _they_ were the ones who jumped to conclusions.

'I really should be used to this,' he thought with a sigh as he walked down the steps to the dungeons. 'After all, people always assume I'm a street rat that will never amount to anything the minute they learn I'm from St. Elizabeth's.'

But he would never get used to it. He went to sleep, feeling as though the entire world was against him.

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A/N: Please, please, please review! I'm really sick, and I need something to cheer me up. (Yeah, I'm desperate. Gets down on hands and knees Please review!) I hope you all are having a great Passover (to those that celebrate it, like me) I miss bread. Have a great day!


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